The Arabian Nights II (17 page)

However, Marjana, who had guessed the intention of the false Khawaja Husain, did not give him the time he needed for the execution of his evil plan. She dressed in the attire of a dancer, with the proper headdress, girded herself with a gilded silver belt, to which she attached a dagger, of which the case and the handle were of the same metal, and finally put a very beautiful mask over her face. When she finished putting on this guise, she said to 'Abd Allah, “ 'Abd Allah, take your tambourine, and let us go to entertain the guest of our master and of his son, by performing for him as we do sometimes.” 'Abd Allah took the tambourine and began to play, walking before Marjana, as he entered the hall. Marjana, entering after him, took a deep bow, in a deliberate air, to make herself noticed and as if asking for permission to perform. As 'Abd Allah saw that 'Ali Baba wished to speak, he stopped playing the tambourine. 'Ali Baba said, “Come in,
Marjana, come in. Khawaja Husain will judge your skill and tell us what he thinks of it,” and, turning to Khawaja Husain, he said to him, “Do not think that it is costing me anything to offer you this entertainment. I have it at home, for as you see, it is performed by my slave and by my cook and servant. I hope that you will not find it disagreeable.” '

Khawaja Husain, who had not expected 'Ali Baba to add this entertainment to the supper, feared that he would lose the opportunity he thought he had found. Should that happen, he thought, he would console himself with the hope of finding it again, by continuing to cultivate the friendship of the father and the son. Thus, although he would have preferred 'Ali Baba to spare him the entertainment, he pretended to be grateful for it and complacently indicated that what pleased 'Ali Baba would please him too. When 'Abd Allah saw that 'Ali Baba and Khawaja Husain stopped talking, he began to play the tambourine again, singing a dancing song, while Marjana, who was as good as any professional dancer, danced in a manner worthy of admiration, not only by this company for which she was performing, but by any other, save perhaps the false Khawaja Husain, who paid little attention. After she performed several dances with the same energy and delight, she finally pulled out the dagger and, holding it in her hand, performed a dance in which she excelled, by the different figures, the light movements, the astonishing leaps, and the marvelous efforts with which she danced, sometimes thrusting the dagger forward as if to stab someone, sometimes thrusting it backward as if to stab herself in the chest. Finally, out of breath, she took the tambourine from 'Abd Allah with her left hand and, holding the dagger in her right hand, went to present the tambourine by its hollow to 'Ali Baba, in imitation of the professional male and female dancers who used it to solicit liberal donations from the spectators.

'Ali Baba threw a gold coin in the tambourine, and Marjana went to his son, who followed his father's example. Meanwhile, Khawaja Husain, who saw that she was coming to him, pulled out his purse from his breast, in order to tip her, and he was putting his hand out when Marjana, with a courage worthy of the firmness and resolution she had shown till then, plunged the dagger into his heart, and kept it there until he was dead. 'Ali Baba and his son, terrified by this action, let out a loud cry, and 'Ali Baba cried out, “Ah! wretched girl, what have you done? Do you wish to destroy me and my family?” Marjana replied, “I did not do it in order to destroy you; I did it to save you.” Then she opened Khawaja Husain's robe and showed him the dagger with which he was armed, saying, “See what an implacable enemy you have been dealing with; look at his face carefully, and you will recognize the false oil merchant, the captain of the forty thieves. Don't
you know why he did not want to eat salt with you? Do you need further proof to convince you of his evil intention? I suspected him even before I saw him, from the moment you told me that you had such a company. Then I took a look at him, and now you see that my suspicion was not without foundation.”

'Ali Baba, realizing the new debt he owed Marjana for having saved his life a second time, embraced her and said, “Marjana, when I gave you your freedom, I told you at that time my gratitude would not stop there and that I would soon reward you fully. The time has come, and I will make you my daughter-in-law.” Then, addressing his son, he added, “Son, I think that you are a good enough son not to find it strange that I give you Marjana for a wife, without consulting you. You are no less indebted to her than I. You see that Khawaja Husain has sought your friendship, only the better to succeed in his plan to take my life by treachery, and, if he had succeeded, you should not doubt that he would have sacrificed you too to his vengeance. Consider, furthermore, that in marrying Marjana, you will marry the mainstay of my family, as long as I live, and the support of yours, to the end of your days.”

The son, far from showing any displeasure, indicated that he consented to this marriage, not only because he did not wish to disobey his father, but also because he was driven to it by his own inclination. Then they started thinking of burying the body of the captain, and they buried him near the bodies of the thirty-seven thieves, so quietly that nobody found out about it until after many years, when no one was any longer interested in talking about this memorable event.

A few days later, 'Ali Baba celebrated the wedding of his son and Marjana with a solemn ceremony and a sumptuous banquet, accompanied with the usual dances, spectacles, and entertainments. He had the satisfaction to find that the friends and neighbors whom he had invited, without letting know the true motive for the marriage, but who recognized Marjana's good and lovely qualities, praised him highly for his generosity and good-heartedness.

After the wedding, 'Ali Baba, who had refrained from going back to the cavern after he had taken out and carried back the body of his brother Qasim on one of the three asses, together with the gold he had loaded them with, continued to refrain from going back, even after the death of the thirty-seven thieves and their captain, for fear that he would find the thieves or be taken by surprise by them there, supposing that the two other thieves, whose fate was unknown to him, were still alive. But after one year, when he saw that nothing happened to cause him any concern, he was seized by curiosity and decided to go back, taking all the precautions necessary for his safety. He mounted his horse, and when he came near the cavern, he saw it
as a good omen to find no trace of men or horses there. He dismounted, went to the door, and said, “Open, sesame!” words that he did not forget. The door opened, and when he entered, the state in which he found everything in the cavern convinced him that since the time the false Khawaja Husain had come to rent a shop in the city, no one had entered there, and that therefore, since that time, all forty thieves must have been dispersed and exterminated. He had no longer any doubt that he was the only one in the world who knew the secret of opening the cavern and that the entire treasure was at his disposal. As he had a bag with him, he filled it with as much gold as his horse could carry and returned to the city. From that time on, 'Ali Baba and his son, whom he took with him to the cavern and to whom he told the secret of opening it, using their fortune with moderation, continued to live, they and their descendants, to whom they passed the secret, in great splendor and were honored as the leading dignitaries of the city.

T
HE
S
TORY OF
'A
LA AL
-D
IN
(A
LADDIN
)
AND THE
M
AGIC
L
AMP

In one of the large and rich kingdoms of China, whose name I do not recollect, there lived a tailor named Mustafa, who had no other distinction save that of his profession. He was very poor, and his labor produced hardly enough to support him, his wife, and a son whom God had given him. The son, who was named 'Ala al-Din, had been brought up in a very careless manner that led him to acquire many vicious habits. He was nasty, obstinate, and disobedient to his father and mother, who, as soon as he was a little grown up, could not keep him at home. He would go out in the morning and spend the day playing in the streets and public places with street children who were even younger than he. When he was old enough to learn a trade, his father, who was in no position to make him learn any other trade but his, took him into his shop and began to show him how to use a needle, but neither by sweet talk nor the fear of punishment was the father able to curb the flightiness of his son. He could not make him control himself and remain as attentive and committed to his work as he wished. As soon as he had his back turned, 'Ala al-Din would disappear for the rest of the day. The father did punish him, but 'Ala al-Din was incorrigible, and Mustafa, to his great regret, was obliged to abandon his son to his delinquent ways. This caused him much pain, and his grief at not being able to make his son stick to his work caused him such a persistent illness that he died within a few months.

'Ala al-Din's mother, who saw that her son did not learn his father's trade, closed the shop and sold all the implements of that trade, and with the little she gained from spinning cotton, she tried to support herself and her son. 'Ala al-Din, who was no longer restrained by the fear of a father and who cared so little for his mother that he even had the temerity to threaten her at the slightest remonstrance she made, gave himself entirely to his delinquent ways. He associated increasingly with children of his own age and never ceased to play with them, even with more abandon than before. He continued this way of life until he was fifteen years old, without being mindful of anything and without reflecting on what might become of him one day.

One day, as he was in this situation, playing as usual with a group of
street children, in the middle of a square, a stranger, who was passing by, stopped to look at him. This stranger was a famous magician, called by the author of this story the African magician, a name I will more readily use as he was actually a native of Africa, having arrived from there two days before. Whether or not this magician, who was a skilled physiognomist, saw in 'Ala al-Din's face all that was absolutely necessary to carry out the purpose of his journey, he inquired artfully about 'Ala al-Din's family, who he was, and what were his inclinations. When he had learned all he desired to know, he approached the young man and, taking him a few steps aside from his comrades, asked him, “Son, was not your father called Mustafa the tailor?” 'Ala al-Din replied, “Yes, sir, but he has been dead a long time.” At these words, the African magician threw his arms around 'Ala al-Din's neck, embraced him, and kissed him several times, sighing and with tears in his eyes. 'Ala al-Din, who noticed his tears, asked him why he was weeping. The African magician cried out, “Alas, my son, how can I help it? I am your uncle, and your father was my good brother. I have been traveling abroad for many years, but no sooner do I come home with the expectation of seeing him rejoice in my return than you inform me that he is dead. I assure you that it is a deep sorrow for me to be deprived of the solace I was anticipating. But what comforts me in my affliction is that as far as I can remember him, I recognize his features in your face, and I see that I was not mistaken in approaching you.” Then putting his hand on his purse, he asked 'Ala al-Din where his mother lived, and as soon as 'Ala al-Din informed him, he gave him a handful of small change, saying, “Son, go find your mother, give her my compliments, and tell her that if my time permits, I will come to see her tomorrow, in order to have the satisfaction of seeing the place where my brother lived for such a long time and where he ended his days.”

As soon as the African magician left his newly designated nephew, 'Ala al-Din ran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had given him. When he arrived, he said to her, “Mother, please, tell me whether I have an uncle.” She replied, “No, son, you have no uncle, neither by your father's side nor mine.” 'Ala al-Din said, “Yet I have just met a man who claims to be my uncle by my father's side, assuring me that he is his brother. He even embraced me and wept when I told him that my father was dead.” He added, showing her the money he had received, “To show you that I am telling the truth, here is what he gave me. He also charged me to give you his greetings and to tell you that tomorrow, if he has the time, he will come to greet you himself and at the same time see the house in which his brother lived and died.” The mother said, “Son, it is true that your father had a brother, but he died a long time ago, and I never heard him say that he had another.” They said nothing more about the African magician.

The following day, the African magician approached 'Ala al-Din a second time, while he was playing in another part of the town with some other children. He embraced him, as he had done on the previous day, and, putting two pieces of gold in his hand, said to him, “Son, take these to your mother, tell her that I will come to see her this evening, and ask her to get something for supper, so that we may eat together, but first tell me where to find the house.” 'Ala al-Din told him, and the African magician let him go. 'Ala al-Din took the two pieces of gold to his mother, and when he told her of his uncle's wishes, she went out accordingly and returned with good provisions, and since she lacked some plates, she went and borrowed them from her neighbors. She spent the whole day preparing the supper and at night, when everything was ready, she said to 'Ala al-Din, “Son, perhaps your uncle does not know how to find our house. Go look for him, and bring him if you meet with him.”